Warriors for Rome
by Ramzes
Summary: Jason Grace and his friends are very different from each other, but they all fight for Rome. And they all bear the scars.
1. Chapter 1

_Disclaimer: All you can recognize belongs to the wondeful Rick Riordan._

**For Rome**

I

He was born a leader.

It took him long to realize that and for a while, he resented it but now he knows it's the truth. He doesn't reject responsibility but then, nether do the others. Romans were never the ones to shun their duties… except for those who betrayed the camp and Olympus and joined Saturn. But there are people who are naturally fit to lead and he is one of them: he's smart, he's quick and decisive in his actions and he is always ready to be judged for them. He does not seek forgiveness, but he isn't the forgiving type either. He is merciless and gracious, and ready to sacrifice himself for his friends and all he holds dear. And – which is infinitely harder – he is ready to sacrifice whatever and whomever it takes to keep these things safe. That doesn't necessarily make him a crowd favourite but he is loved by his friends and respected by everyone else. It's satisfying but it is also… well, lonely. Add the mighty Daddy in the picture, and you have a prescription for isolation. No, it isn't isolation of the 'being ignored' kind, it is rather the 'oh he's sooo above us' kind. Unfortunately, that means that he's subjected to stricter criteria than the others and when he fails, he is criticized note than they are. Of course, that has something to do with the fact that with great power come great failures, too.

And yet, when the greatest failure of all comes, he is not blamed for anything. Oh the battle of Mount Othrys might have been a great victory but it is an ultimate failure. So many dead. Camp will never be the same. And he knew, he _knew_ what his comrades would meet and he still sent them to meet their deaths while he got lucky and escaped with only a few hours in the infirmary and two months of treatment. And still, everyone licks their wounds and no one looks at him with anger and contempt. Sometimes, he wonders whether it would be easier if they did.

He is doing his best to help the camp restore its usual dynamics but he cannot honestly say he would have succeeded without Reyna. He might be the glue that keeps them together, but she is the one who can give them reassurance. The two of them are a good team. Too bad it's true only about the camp work.

For a while, he thought that maybe… She certainly wasn't indifferent to him, but then, after coming back from a quest for four in which he wasn't included, she changed. He doesn't know what happened and he doesn't really want to but when he sits in his honorary – and solitary – cabin – he sometimes wishes for having someone to whom he is what Dakota is to Reyna. Someone to hold him the way she did with Dakota that first day after the battle, when he had been falling apart. Sometimes, he wishes for not being the leader, at any time, at any place. For not being alone, apart from everyone else.

He is Jason Grace. He is the son of Jupiter. He has always wanted more than he was allowed to and has always pretended not to.

And he has always had a high tolerance for pain.

II

She was born a misfit.

It started immediately after her birth, when the pale midwives didn't dare show her shocked mother the newborn who lacked a left hand; below the wrist, she only had a lump of flesh in which no palm or fingers could be identified. Of course, the mother had more than one reason to be shocked, but the baby would learn about it years later.

She vividly remembers the mocking that was her constant companion through her early years. She was beautiful but it was not her beauty that stood out but the empty space where her left hand should have been. Children can be so cruel. Now, she would gladly teach them their place, but then, she could do nothing but accept their verdict. Being shunned for something that was not her fault. Her only comfort are the fairytales where love ensures the happy end and conquers all.

After arriving in the camp, things change. She is no longer ignored or mocked. Instead, she finds friends who care about her and protect her. And that makes her feel obliged to prove herself worthy. Having once found love and acceptance she doesn't think she could live without them any more. She lives on love, on giving and receiving it. She fights for her right to stay, to prove herself a true warrior more than any other camper. Sometimes, Bobby jokes that clearly a mistake had happened at her claiming – she was so obviously not a Venus child but a Minerva or a Mars one. Venus was never too warlike, after all. The thing is, neither is _she_. She doesn't _love_ fighting and when she joins the battle at Mount Tam – no, Mount Othrys; Holy Jupiter, she shudders to think what must have happened to the poor mortals who were guilty only of having decided to have a hike at Mount Tam in the wrong day – she doesn't do it out of love for battles. She does it out of love – love for her friends, love for the things that were right. She has always loved the beautiful things – the lovely clothes, the work of arts – and she thinks that without them, the world would be bereaved. In her mind, she cannot reconcile Saturn with preserving any kind of beauty. He'd rather destroy everything. But most of all, she does it for her friends. She cannot help but stay by them and die for them, if needed. That's how love works. That's just how she is.

When she sees Bobby lying on the ground, his lower half smashed under the black marble wall that had collapsed, she does not hesitate: she falls to her knees and joins the others who are doing their best to dig him out. There is one major difference, though: they all best her in physical strength, but she has the power of Venus. The power of love. She doesn't even have the time to pray to her mum, but she feels the blessing of Venus surging through her blood and bones, while, bending her back under the pressure, she lifts the rock and Bobby is able to crawl aside… at least after Lily White, daughter of Apollo, ministers to him. The bad news it that the healing completely wipes her out and she collapses directly across Bobby, who is trying to stand up, and there is no one around who can fix _her_… so Dakota grabs her and carries her as far away from the battle as possible and lays her hidden under a rock.

Miraculously, Lily makes it out despite the monsters charging near her, the snake woman who is shot next to her head – after that, Michael Carey almost has a breakdown, convinced that he has killed Lily; the arrow does, indeed, pass through her hair, but the lessons in archery taught by the Apollo cabin are well paid off and she isn't hurt, - and the fire just a few feet away… and those are only the things that she _knows_ about. But so many others are not so lucky. So many pyres, so many empty seats at the dinner tables. She can barely stand to think about it but she has to live it. She has no other choice.

She is Hazel Valentine. She is a daughter of Venus and she has to accept that love does not necessarily conquer all.

III

He was born a prankster.

He is charming, persuasive, easygoing. He can convince anyone into anything. Oh he has to learn to control this trait of his after he makes it to camp. Romans are all about discipline and they are not fond of jesters, or so is he told. It is certainly true about Lupa. The old mother wolf warns him in that some things are not to be tolerated and his fellow campers make it clear-cut as early as his first day with them. It seems that they have some experience with the likes of him and they are aware that he is not to be trusted. He isn't – not about the small things like wallets and chocolate. But he can be pretty serious when it comes to serious stuff and his friends know it. Everyone knows it. A part of him will stay a mischievous kid forever, but he knows what is important. And he can feel when someone likes him. Sometimes, he thinks it must be a blessing from his father and other times, he attributes it to his own cool persona, but the fact is, he can always say when someone likes him and many of his strict fellow campers do. And most people around here do need some serious cheering up. Come to think of it, the camp is a pretty unlikable place, all about rules, discipline, self-control and respect to authorities. It clearly needs him and his likes. But for all its faults, it is home. It is for him and people like him – the ADHD, dyslexic, restless, weird kids that are hardwire for battle and has 'Trouble' for a middle name. To stay here, he is ready to put up with discipline, as much as it offends his inborn sense of order. And little by little, it starts to rub off him. He wants to gain the others' respect, he finds himself believing in the values they preach and finally, he has to grow up. The Titan war is a battle for adults. He stills does some of his tricks but half-heartedly. The situation is too bad. Sometimes, he thinks it cannot go worse.

At Mount Othrys he finds out how wrong he was. For weeks afterwards, he wakes up screaming in terror, dreaming that he is under that rock again and this time, there is no Hazel, no escape. He dreams about everyone they lost, about the burning lake and the screaming demigods falling into the water, about the blood pouring over Gwen's face, half-eaten by a telkhine, before Reyna restored her with nectar and a hymn to Apollo, and the fear that she would not make it. It makes sense: why would she survive when everyone else in the world was either dead or going to be? He dreams of that dragon that they fight and how they are not even concerned with being careful, because they are going to die anyway, so what difference does it make? The least they can do is take it with them. Maybe it is that neglect for their own safety that helps them kill it, after all.

When it's daytime, though, when he's with Gwen, he can think about the positives. The falling palaces of black marble as he watches with Gwen's hand in his and her head against his shoulder, her relief mingling with his. The end of the threat. That brilliant smile of hers, a smile that he hasn't seen in ages. The first time he smoothes an auburn curl away from her face and she flinches – she hates it when he touches her scar, but he strokes it and kisses it, making her smile. She finds the imprint of the set of teeth embedded in her skin ugly and disgusting. He sees it as a mark of honour.

And still, and still... Sometimes, he thinks of the insidious glistening line that separates being spared from being rejected. Sometimes, he thinks of the ancient practices in Rome and Greece that the people chosen for sacrifice should be both fearless and physically flawless, and wonders whether the Fates who have decided to cut the thread of life for Mark, Jerry and so many others have not decided that he wasn't good enough.

He is Bobby Ringling. He is a son of Mercury and he no longer jokes.

**A. N. If you are interested in my version of the battle of Mount Othrys, you might want to check out my story Brave at Heart. I've got another Jason story… well, it's more a Jupiter and Juno story… It's called Given a Destiny and it is yours for the reading.**


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer: Of course I own nothing!**

Thanks to Happy Ace88 for the lovely review

**For Rome 2**

IV

She was born giving.

Her grandmother doted over her. Her babysitters sang her praises. Her cousins played with her as if she were a doll – they were constantly changing her clothes and she did not once complain for the disturbance of her nap, although most babies proclaimed their objections uproariously. The only time anyone could remember her throwing a tantrum was when she was teething, but well, the process _was_ painful.

She loves taking care of the others. She loves feeding homeless animals and she loves growing things. She is very talented – she can grow anything, as long as she has some dirt handy. It almost seems that the earth is obeying her wishes, growing the most delicious fruits and beautiful flowers just to make her smile.

After arriving at camp, she starts mothering her friends – to their annoyance and secret delight. Still, it is a military camp and real soldiers do not need mother hens to fret over them and everyone here is fiercely struggling to become a real soldier. Everyone, including her. The environment itself contributes to that, the shared values and so on. So she makes a conscious effort to mask this side of her, this overbearing protectiveness that everyone finds a little too overboard, even she.

Still, her friends put up with her. Jason, Reyna, Hazel. She and Dakota do have some frictions since he is the last person who can bear being protected, but all in all, he acknowledges – quite grudgingly – that she cannot change, no more than he can. They are who they are and they are friends, so they forgive each other and go on.

And what about Bobby? He is Jason's friend. Dakota's. Hazel and Reyna's. But not hers. He is not to be trusted and she cannot be friends with someone who is unreliable, no matter how charming he is. And gods know that charming he is.

Still, while growing up, she starts realizing that he is not, in fact, completely unreliable. He is not a Lost Cause. He is just different from her but that does not mean he's worse. They balance each other perfectly: the serious girl and the enchanting guy, the heart and the spirit. And, of course, they are not so different, not inwardly. They are both fiercely loyal to the camp, to their friends, to each other. To their fight.

She knows she'll never forget the moment when she ran to the little group of demigods and saw him lying on the ground, his right leg bent under an angle that was anything but natural. She thought she'd faint while Lily cleaned his wounds, rubbed some balm into them and muttered the hymn to Apollo – but it was Lily who collapsed in the end. Still, Alan held her as if he was afraid she'd also hit the ground. She can only be grateful that she didn't actually see the wall crumbling over him. Her heart would have probably stopped beating, weakened as it already was by the sight of the losses she saw wherever she turned her head to.

Giving is in her nature. When she attacks that telkhine empty-handed, she is ready to give her life for Amber's. Despite the burning sensation in her cheek and jaw, she continues stabbing it, seeing only the fair hair and flailing arms of the girl in its grasp.

It's all in vain. Amber dies. And she is left with the scar. Nectar, ambrosia, balm and Reyna's skills save her life but there is a limit to they can do for her face. At least she doesn't lose the eyesight of the damaged eye, but that is such a small comfort when confronted with the mirror.

And yet, if she could go back in time, she'd do the same without hesitation. She still has nightmares about the burning boats and the monsters on the shore, about the poisoned lake and her friends dying all over her, touched by the eerie breath of Mount Othrys. But Amber is never among them. She could not help her but she wanted to. She tried.

She spends all her free time with Bobby. At first, she's embarrassed by her looks, but he doesn't seem to mind. They are both bearing the inner scars but when they are together, things look a little brighter every day. He says that she's the most beautiful girl he's ever seen and when she looks into his eyes, she believes him, although he'll forever stay a little unreliable. But not about that.

They rarely talk about the battle. Instead, they talk about their dead friends, the way they want to remember them. They talk about their living friends and how lucky they are that they aren't commanders. At least, they are spared by the guilt conscience that plagues both Jason and Dakota. They are not leaders. They are just ordinary demigods trying to do their best for their camp, their friends, and each other. No matter how hard it is, they are trying. Bur even in their most happy days, in one moment or another, there are always sad undertones – the trickling blood of the past.

She is Gwendolyn Planter. She is a daughter of Ceres and no matter how hard she tries, she is powerless to grow joy.

V

She was born to shine.

She is charming, vain, a show-off. Much like Venus' kids. She can compromise with her outfit when need calls, but usually she's glamorous and winning, and spectacular. She radiates glow that lights the camp but it's only natural. Her glow actually warms the camp, and it's something that the soldiers really value. One of the flaws of the Roman camp is that it might drain you of warmth.

She's not all about looks and being awesome, though. She's a competent officer, a capable healer, a magnificent archer. A good leader. She can unite people. She radiates charisma the way the sun radiates light. And she is a good friend, never wavering in her loyalty or her commitment to her duty.

It is only a matter of time until she and Jason get together. Everyone expects it. They are the two most charismatic leaders at camp. They are both attractive. And they are good friends.

She'll never tell anybody, but she thinks she fell for him the day she arrived at camp. He was so kind and so handsome and she is as awed by him as she is by camp. Through the years, admiration and attraction only grow. He is worthy of her feelings – he is as awesome inside as he is outside. And she can say that he feels the same way about her.

But he isn't her destiny. Well, with demigods it's hard to have _someone_ as your destiny. Usually, it is _something_. Death, namely. She thinks she has met it when she's faced with the manticore. There are four of them – she, Dakota, Gwen, and Jerry Rogers, son of Minerva – and they are all at the verge of their resilience. Only their strict legionnaire training helps the, not to drop dead by pure exhaustion. They are a good team, combining their unique strengths and talents – but a rather ragged one at the end of their two week long quest. That's when they meet the manticore and they barely escape with their lives, only because Gwen manages to grow some herbs that extract the poison from both her and Jerry. But then, the hellhounds came, and the snake women. And Jeff. Her own half-brother, an excellent archer like her and an arch-traitor. She has thought – hoped – that he was dead. No such luck, though. The ambush happens two hours away from camp and leaves them all bleeding. She can feel the poison that the traitor had dipped the tips of his arrows into permeates into her body. Jerry limps badly. Gwen holds her useless left arm, broken in two places. Dakota obviously has some complaints, too, but out of all of them, he looks in best shape. She can do nothing for anyone – there is no time for healing, they have to run. And she runs as far as she can, until the poison starts paralyzing her limbs and even the growls from behind cannot spring her into moving. Dakota grabs her and keeps running and Jerry actually has to place her arm behind their friend's neck, because she cannot do it alone. They will not make it, but she doesn't care, because she's sleepy, so sleepy…

And then, the thud that shakes her out of her daze. She feels herself being lifted in someone's arms and she can hear – very faintly – many voices screaming, including Gwen's. And then the person holding her starts carrying her away, she sees where she is. She sees the monsters. And she realizes what had happened. Unable to make the final steps while carrying her, instead of dropping her, Dakota has thrown her over the border of the camp, to safety, before doing his best to follow them. But it's too late. Her last glimpse of him reveals a snake woman attacking him, a hellhound leaping to get him and Jeff – the bloody lunatic! – aiming his arrow at him, and she wants to scream, but the muscles in her throat do not obey her will any more.

When she wakes up, they are both in the infirmary. She is better, but he is worse. She realizes that his condition is due not only to the last attack, he's had some pretty bad blows from before – numerous bleeding wounds, a heavy blow on his skull. He has carried her through all this without ever showing that he is in pain.

Is it the fact that he's saved her life that draws her to him? Hardly, they have saved each other's lives many times before. Maybe it's the timing. Maybe it's the fear that she'd really lose him that makes her realize what he means to her. Never before has she thought that he might actually die – he has always seemed ready to challenge death and win. But while she sits at his bedside and holds his hand, the thought that he might die makes the whole world black. To her, nothing is the same. Never again. He is not as glamorous as Jason. In fact, he can be rather unpleasant – hotheaded, arrogant, a brawler, never reaching to untie a knot if he can cut it with his _gladius_. But he is also dependable and brave. And hers.

She wonders whether she'd stop whirling around and unsheathing her _gladius_ at any unfamiliar sound. Whether she could look at the sun and see it as her father's chariot and not like the Titan Krios' eyes. And actually bathing in a lake is a real feat, harder than defeating any monster, because in her mind's eye, she can still see her fellow campers being claimed by the sizzling waters, feel the boiling wave that has splashed over the board of the boat, burning her feet. At her first attempt, she jumps away screaming as soon as the water reaches her ankles. It's only at her fourth attempt that she actually manages to enter the lake, clinging to Dakota's arm for dear life and relieved that he's the only one who's here to see her weakness. She feels no pleasure, but she's defeated her fear and that's the most important thing.

Maybe one day, she'll feel like herself again.

Meanwhile, she helps Jason rebuilding the camp. Yes, rebuilding, because they have lost so many comrades that _recovering_ actually means _reforming_. She's efficient in designing and implementing plans. The warmth of her smile and the glamour that she radiates make everyone believe that yes, the sun still rises and yes, they'd be okay. Eventually. Sometimes even she believes it. But she's so tired of all of it. Sometimes, all she wants to do is give her warmth to one particular person and draw on his own.

She is Reyna Archer. She is a daughter of Apollo and Dakota Spears' arms are the only thing that can make her feel warm.

VI

He was born a fighter.

His mother's labour was ridiculously short. In fact, she almost gave birth on the road, with her purchases in hands – he was so determined to fight his way into the world as soon as possible.

Camp life is hard for him. He doesn't mind the hard training – actually, he loves it, - but learning self-control is so hard. For him, this is the real battle and a few times he comes dangerously close to the end of Lupa's patience. He almost manages to get himself kicked out of camp for not controlling his temper. It isn't that he minds order and discipline, it's just that he believes he knows best what order and discipline are and his ideas often clash with the others'. He and Jason start a fight at the very same day of his arrival, attracting a crowd of spectators who cheer for one or the other of them. They end the day as best friends and a girl he doesn't know then, Reyna, mutters, "Boys! First they decorate each other's faces and then they become lifelong friends." She means it as an insult, but in their case, it is true.

Still, he doesn't fancy the idea of being thrown out or becoming food after all – he's ADHD, not an idiot. Actually, he hadn't heard about a kid who's been allowed to camp to become food, but once or twice, Lupa does seem furious enough with him to experiment with a new meal. Or so he thinks.

But time passes. And while he might enjoy war, he certainly doesn't enjoy the Titan one. Too many victims. Too much on the stake. Too many ghosts to visit him at night and ask why he gets one promotion after another, acclaims and praises by everyone while all they got for dying under his command are the funeral pyres. Finally, he starts fearing to fall asleep. He forces himself to only because he knows he needs some rest and while these dreams mess his head and heart up, his body makes some use of the hours meant for resting.

But he keeps doing the same thing anyway. He keeps leading his comrades into seemingly hopeless battles. He lits the pyres. And he scours the faces of the survivors to find out who would be most useful for him, although he hates it. He feels like a butcher looking for the most delicious lamb.

The battle of Mount Othrys is his breaking point. He is in full battle rage, fueled by the death of his friends everywhere around and he enjoys feeling his reflexes work in full measure, but later, when he looks around and sees that the number of the dead demigods – too many of them dead under his command – almost equals that of the living ones, he feels that he cannot take it any more. It is as if the purpose of defeating the Titans had been the only thing that has kept him functioning and when this reason no longer exists, nor does he.

And yet, when Reyna creeps into his lonely cabin, takes him into her arms and tries to warm his freezing body, he realizes that he can still feel pain. How has she known how unwell he is? He doesn't know and he doesn't care. Later, he might worry about things like looking weak and stuff, but for now he can only hold her as tightly as she holds him and grieve for everyone they lost. None of them says it, but they both feel that they would end or mend together.

He is Dakota Spears. He is a son of Mars. He is exhausted and disheartened, and too weak to reject the comfort.


End file.
